Seamer Versus Townie
by ClintonBush43Obama
Summary: What if Peeta and Gale had competed against each other in the arena? Will they both die? Who will win? And if one of them does, what happens to Katniss's heart? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1: 75th Reaping

**Chapter 1: 75th Reaping**

 **Katniss's POV**

My mother nudges the battered old TV into the corner. The machine has seen better days, certainly, but with a few tinkerings of the antennae by Prim, it does well enough.

It has to. We very well could all be shot if the TV didn't work and we missed this mandatory programming.

This year is the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games, a sick competition in which the 12 districts of Panem send one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18 into an outdoor arena to fight to the death. The last of the 24 tributes alive wins. And every 25 years - like this year - a special edition of the Games called a Quarter Quell is held. President Snow now takes the stage on screen to perform the Reading of the Card - the announcement of this Quell's twist.

"This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games. Before we make the announcement, let us remember the Quells that came before." He recites both of the last two twists. On the 25th anniversary, the districts were made to elect their tributes. How awful. Picking the kids who had to go. For most districts, I bet that would have meant sacrificing the poorest of the poor, the undesirables, troublemakers. I wonder if the President will say who won that year, but he just continues on. On the 50th anniversary, the districts were required to send twice as many tributes. I've never been alive for a Quarter Quell. But my mother would have been for that one, probably a young teenager of Reaping age herself. As I glance to her, a dark pain flashes across her eyes, as if she is remembering a painful memory. I wouldn't be surprised if she is: the Second Quarter Quell was the last time District 12 ever produced a Victor.

A small page boy is now presenting the President with a box of envelopes, from which he selects the one emblazoned with a 75. Opening the flap, and without pausing, he reads, "On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that rebel fathers indoctrinated their sons, the districts will send only boys." The programming abruptly ends.

My mother blandly goes to her room, and I order Prim to the bed we share soon after. I stay up a little, cleaning my hunting kills from the day and thinking about the Quell in six months time. What a boring twist. Only boys. Then again, maybe not so boring: male tributes are far more vicious in killing than the girls. At least this year, I'll be safe. And so will Prim, for only her second Reaping.

But someone will not be safe, as I drop my knife into the sink with a clatter. My best friend. My hunting partner.

Gale.

* * *

When I meet up Gale for our daily hunt on the morning of the Reaping, six months later, I do not say one word about the Quell. Mercifully, neither does he. I'm usually a very taciturn person myself; Gale understands this. He only moves me to speak as much as I need to, as much as he might need to know and nothing more. Gale gets me. He understands me. And he understands that the less we dwell on the Games today, the better off our nerves will be.

Besides, we may not have to discuss anything, if all goes well this afternoon. Nevertheless, as we part at the Seam after making our sales in the Hob, Gale cups my face in his big, calloused hands and kisses me full on the lips. I capture his lower mouth in between my own and nibble there, kissing him back. "Hmmmm..."

We break apart gently. "I'll see you soon," Gale promises - his only allusion to the event that could determine at least his fate, if not also my own. Gale and I were friends at first, finding common ground in hunting and the fact that we both lost our fathers in the same mining accident. But about a year ago, our feelings shifted. When Gale first asked me casually to dinner in the Hob, I almost completely missed a shot at the deer I was aiming for. When he kissed me, I about fainted. I had until that point vowed that I would never marry, nor birth children only to see them sent to the arena. I know all too well what it's like to lose family. But with Gale... perhaps a match made sense. A relationship between two people with a history. Who, as I said, completely understand each other.

When I arrive home, my mother nearly attacks me in her eagerness to dress me for the Quell. I indulge her, as it's about the only motherly thing she can still do. She really drew away emotionally after my father died; I mostly raised Prim.

Not that there isn't much for Mother to do. I wear the same faded blue dress to the Reaping every year. It's still about the nicest dress my mother ever owned, going all the way back to her days as a young Merchant woman. When she wed my father, a Seam miner, her family disowned her.

Mother finishes with my favorite touch: the single, simple braid running down my back. One check in the mirror, and we proceed to prepare Prim. With her blond hair that she inherited from our mother, my baby sister could still pass as a Merchant's child. I hope - I _know_ \- she will find a nice husband once she comes of age.

When the three of us arrive at the square in front of the Justice Building, the place is already bustling. My sister and I sign in with the Peacekeepers - consisting of a pinprick of blood from our fingers - before separating to stand with our respective age groups, I with the 17 year olds, she with the 13 year olds.

At precisely twelve noon, the Mayor of our district takes the stage. He begins to recite the traditional spiel about the Dark Days rebellion that birthed the Hunger Games. Then he recites the names of Past District 12 Victors. In almost three-quarters of a century, we have had a pitiful two. We bow our heads for the deceased first: Duke Vedaldi, Victor of the 13th Hunger Games. He's been gone since before I was born - a piece of trivia I learned in our Games History class in school. Mother once said he became a drug addict soon after -

"Victor of the 50th Hunger Games: Haymitch Abernathy!" Our only living relic of the arena rises staggeringly from his place of honor, then promptly tumbles headfirst off the stage. I visibly wince. Haymitch Abernathy is a paunchy, middle-aged man, possibly a peer of my mother's. He's also a drunk. I almost feel sorry for him as Peacekeepers haul him away, for with the Quell this year, he's going to get a lot more attention than he might otherwise want. And he damn sure will now after that circus act he just pulled.

Our District escort, Effie Trinket, now replaces our Mayor at the microphone. "Welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

I wince at her Capitol accent, which distracts me from her selection of the first tribute from now only the single Reaping ball onstage. "Gale Hawthorne!"

I nearly topple into the girl next to me. I vaguely wonder why they even bothered to split us girls by age anyway, since none of us are eligible to be Reaped this year. Nevertheless, my breath begins to come out in rough gasps - I wonder if I am hyperventilating - as I watch my boyfriend of only a single year take the stage. His last Reaping ever, and he's picked! Odds in your favor - yeah, right! I can feel Gale's eyes seek me out as he faces his neighbors; behind their gaze lies a clear message:

 _Don't cry. Don't let it show until we're alone._

Effie moves right on ahead, oblivious to the emotional carnage she has wrought. "Peeta Mellark!"

My mouth now falls open as I watch a boy from my age group, with ashy blonde hair and blue eyes, take the stage. Peeta Mellark!

 _Oh no_ , I think. _Not him_. Unlike Gale, I hardly know him at all. Except for that one critical time... in the rain...

He threw me some bread to feed my family while we were starving. This act of kindness would eventually inspire me to hunt and forage for food. In this, Peeta Mellark has had just as much an impact on my life as Gale has.

Gale and Peeta now shake hands, prompted by Effie, before they are whisked away into the Justice Building.

The ceremony has scarcely ended before I am racing for the doors.

* * *

I am first in line before the holding room leading to my boyfriend; I even beat Gale's mother Hazellle and four younger siblings. The woman who very well could have been my mother-in-law one day does not begrudge me this. Every visitor to the tributes gets five minutes of goodbyes with them, no matter how many visitors there are. The Peacekeepers generously give as much time as it takes. And this year, I have no doubt that there will be a line going out the front doors for Gale; he has always had many friends in the Seam.

As soon as a Peacekeeper nudges me inside, I launch myself at him. Gale is still turning around from where he has been staring stoically out the window before I am kissing him. It is though I am intent of drawing the breath out of his lungs. I would rather he die here, with me, than at the hands of some stranger in the wilderness, or - God forbid! - Peeta Mellark.

Gale fiercely kisses me back. "We can't do this..." he gasps, even as I brazenly hook my leg around his thigh. "If the Capitol knew about us, they could use you to get to me!"

"I don't care," I moan bravely between kisses. "Let them do what they want with me. Just promise you'll come home!"

When we finally get a hold of ourselves, we sit and lay out final plans. I pledge that Hazellle and his siblings won't starve, getting a share of my kills. At last, the Peacekeepers drag me away from the man I love.

* * *

As I make my way down the hall, I see the Mellark family leaving another holding room. No one else waits behind them in line to see Peeta off. I bite my lip, slowing down, but none of the group sees me. Should I...? It would be my last chance...

As soon as the family leaves the Building through a door at the end of the hall, I jump to the door of Peeta's cell. The Peacekeepers seem surprised that a Seam girl wishes to speak to a Merchant, but they let me in.

Peeta is seated on a cushioned bench by the window. His eyes raise to me, and he stands up in surprise upon recognition of who it is. "What are you doing here?"

There is a momentary silence, as I attempt to get my voice to work. Why am I here? Come on, Katniss, think... Finally, I courageously give the answer that has been dogging me for the last five years.

"I never got to thank you. For the bread. I just... thank you."

Silence. I don't even know if Peeta is aware of what I am talking about, or that he would remember even if he was. Having said what I came here to say, and already embarrassed enough as it is, I awkwardly turn to leave.

"Why do you think I did it?" His voice sounds heavy, tired somehow.

So he _does_ remember. "What?" I turn back.

"Why do you think I did it?" He repeats. His crystal-clear diction pierces me like the tips on my arrows.

"I don't know. Why did you do it?" and I am surprised to discover that a part of me actually wants to find out.

He takes a few steps towards me, eyes locked on mine, his voice earnest. "I couldn't bear to see you in that kind of pain."

I slide back from his advance. "Please don't," I practically whisper. "I... I have a boyfriend."

Peeta regards me quizzically. I want to punch myself. What a... bitchy thing for me to say! More than that, it's not even relevant to the conversation. Peeta merely said he couldn't bear to see me starve. That doesn't mean he... cares for me! Or... loves me...

"I know," Peeta says softly. Do I imagine it, or does he sound sad? Does he know that my boyfriend is going into the arena same as him?

Even if my declaration of non-availability had been relevant, I am impressed that Peeta still respects these boundaries. This makes me wonder:

"Did you have a girlfriend to see you off?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't had any girl come and see me off. Unless you count my mother, which, sorry, I don't."

I can't help my smile. The Baker's wife has quite the reputation of being a witch of a woman. There are rumors that she even beats her sons. Still, the fact that no girl other than me has braved the Justice Building for Peeta surprises me. I've seen him with no shortage of friends in school, and the girls do eye him.

No girlfriend. No girlfriend, and he's headed for death... I pity him.

I suddenly take a step forward. "Peeta, come here."

He inches closer, confused, not getting my meaning. But he's near enough for me to pull his neck down and press his lips to mine.

I pour my best acting skills, my best show of passion, into the kiss. I kiss Peeta the way I would kiss Gale. My arms wind tightly about his neck, my fingers sinking - curling - into his blonde hair. I close my eyes. I dare to moan in pleasure. "Hmmmm..."

After a moment, I feel Peeta kiss me back. His fingers run themselves through my braid, undoing it until my curls of brown hair cascade down my shoulders in waves. His hands then sweep lower, splaying across my back. They take me by my waist and pull me closer, flush against him. Finally, I feel his digits groping down around my bum, squeezing the tender flesh there through the hem of my blue dress. And then, Peeta suddenly dips me, and I let out a muffled squeal of fear. "Mmmmm!" Still, he holds me gently, continuing to pet my butt. I let him touch me, feel me up: if Peeta Mellark hasn't known the kiss of a woman, then he certainly hasn't know the body of a woman, at least in the carnal sense. He needs to feel that sensation before he dies. If this were any other situation, I would deck him if he touched me like that.

That's what I tell myself, as I now part Peeta's lips with mine, as I slip my tongue in between the split and down his throat. I'm doing this out of compassion. I know this is wrong. I know how I just said I have a boyfriend. I know that, in kissing this other man, I am not being faithful. But this kiss is to thank Peeta for the bread that saved my life. This kiss is to give him something to hang onto, in his last moments.

Besides: he is such a _good_ kisser...

I hear footsteps approaching the door. I gently yet assertively move Peeta's hands off my ass and back up to my waist. Pushing him away as firmly as I can without being mean, his lips spring off of mine and I leap away from him. Half a second later, the door opens.

"Time's up." I am escorted out of the room, glancing back for one last look at the Baker's son - he looks stunned and perhaps... elated? - just before the door slams behind me.


	2. Chapter 2: Training and Interviews

**Chapter 2: Training and Interviews**

 **Peeta's POV**

When Gale and I first meet him, Haymitch Abernathy is very cantankerous, very sarcastic and very, _very_ drunk. I am actually relieved that, following Gale's insistence that we both be coached separately, the old alcoholic hands me off to Effie Trinket, as he has no one else to help him.

Effie is a little snooty, but she means well. I think she's relieved that she is at least mentoring someone with manners. For me, it's a welcome change in scene, because at least I am away from Gale. I know why he asked to be coached individually; he is using every tool he can to get back to his girlfriend. If only he knew that I was in love with Katniss, then his reasoning would take on a whole other dimension.

When we arrive in the Capitol, I do my best to appear excited, humbled, smiling and waving for the crowd. The exercise quickly takes on an apologetic air, as Gale is doing his very best to not even acknowledge the Capitol elites. From what I know about him, he hates the Snow regime. I just hope he doesn't make his disdain too clear: with both of us being relatively attractive tributes, District 12 hasn't gotten this much attention in years. If Gale ends up earning the ire of the Gamemakers, that could negatively affect me. Whether either one of us cares to admit it or not, we depend on each other's fortunes, at least to a certain extent.

Haymitch quickly introduces us to our stylists. Portia, who will be assigned to me, is nice and warm, almost motherly. Gale reluctantly accepts Cinna, his stylist, if for no other reason than he seems relatively less eccentric than most of the people here. We spend the day sequestered from each other as we are primped and preened, which is just fine by me. I finally meet up with my rival and my mentor that evening for the Tributes' Parade in the City Circle. Cinna hands us little buttons to press when we are ready. Gale and I climb into the chariot, and pretty soon, we are off.

Going last in all of the Games' proceedings - Reapings, interviews, even chariot rides - usually gives District 12 a critical disadvantage. Cinna must be aware of this, for his button trick does its part to rectify this situation and then some. Gale and I burst into almost beautiful flames, yet we don't burn up. Encouraged by the roars of the crowd, shrieks and even sobs from the Capitol women over how beautiful we District 12 men are, I smile and wave. I even dole out blown kisses and winks to the crowd. I can hear people actually chanting my name:

"PEETA! PEETA! PEETA!" I also hear a smattering of cries for Gale.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gale giving me a look of pure stone, as if he's angry with me for playing into these birdbrains' hands. Like before while getting off the train, he refuses to acknowledge any of the love thrown his way, as if these people are beneath him.

Following President Snow's speech, we are escorted off the chariot and meet up with Haymitch and Effie, who whisk us away into the Tribute Training Center. I hear Effie blabbing on and on about how, since this is a Quell, the Training Center is brand new and even more immaculate than the one used most other years.

* * *

Training begins the very next morning. Most of the boys have already arrived by the time Gale and I show up. Our Head Trainer, Atala, gives a brief prep speech before turning us loose. Gale practically sprints away from me as he heads for the sword-fighting station. I turn my attention to throwing spears. As I learn how to wield the thing, I gradually get to take in my competition.

Most of the boys are a lot bigger than me, though we are mostly of the same muscular build. One or two are even taller than Gale. I notice perhaps three 12- or 13-year olds in the bunch and that is it.

At one point, I catch Gale's eye. By now, he has mastered the art of the sword, and has now turned to mace throwing. I keep waiting for him to go to the archery station, but he doesn't. Haymitch must have told him to hide that skill from the other boys. Not that it would matter to me, even if Gale did. I already know all too well that he is a skilled archer, though in my view not as skilled as Katniss. And if at least one person already knows this talent, that puts Gale in danger, and me, the knowledgable one, at an advantage.

Other than that, my prospects don't look too good.

* * *

After 3 days of training, the tributes have their private sessions with the Gamemakers. With no gender demarcation, the boys go in order of districts, but within districts, we are placed in alphabetical order. That means Gale goes ahead of me, no doubt to display his prowess with a bow, leaving me last of all. When I am finally allowed in, I show off my new weaponry skills and finish with some camouflage painting.

That night, the Training scores are broadcast on TV. When Caesar Flickerman reaches District 12, he gives Gale a score of 9, putting him right up with the Career boys. And then he reads my score of... 9.

I chance only a brief glance Gale's way, who is eyeing the screen stoically, an intense frown on his face. We got the same score. I suppose I should feel impressed to have drawn even with the imposing Seam boy; indeed, it's more than I could have hoped for. At any event, I'm in the mix.

The only question is if I can maintain that, and for how long.

* * *

The fourth and final night is our interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Boy after boy after boy is called to the stage, and honestly, I don't remember any of them. I only sit straighter and pay attention when I notice Gale taking his seat beside the host, to the roar of the crowd.

"My, my, Gale!" Caesar marvels. "You're a big fellow, aren't you?"

For the first time since I've known him, I see Gale crack something of a smile. "I would hope so, Caesar."

I lean forward in my chair, confused. Where is the quiet stoicism? The rebel spirit that Gale surely is? Wherever it is, it's not here tonight, and I wonder if Haymitch managed to knock it out of him, at least for this interview. Indeed, I think that is exactly what has happened, as implied by Caesar's next question.

"You've been unusually quiet since getting here to the Capitol. Why is that?"

Gale shrugs. "I'm mostly a reserved person. Very taciturn. Besides, I'm nervous, as I have a lot at stake in trying to win." A perfect excuse for his lack of enthusiasm.

"Like what?"

"My family. I'm the oldest of four. And my girlfriend."

"Ahh! I knew it! A handsome lad like you is bound to have a sweetheart. What's her name?"

Gale frowns. "I would say, Caesar, but I don't think she'd appreciate it much. She's pretty shy herself." He resolutely sticks to this line, despite Caesar's machinations to get Katniss's identity out of him. At last, the buzzer rings, and then it's my turn.

As it was upon arrival in the city, my interview turns into an exercise of CGA: Cover Gale's Ass. Despite his rescuing of himself tonight to placate Snow and the Gamemakers, my jovial and joking interaction with Caesar creates a stark, almost apologetic contrast to my predecessor's personality. The audience roars with delight at our friendly needling and wordplay. Finally, the host asks:

"Peeta, tell me: is there a special girl back home?"

I pause for a moment in indecision, before shaking my head. No good. Caesar has better instincts than a wild animal.

"Handsome guy like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

I take a deep breath, crafting it to look as though Caesar has caught me. And he has. "Well, there is this one girl that... I've had a crush on forever. But I don't think she realized I was alive until the Reaping."

The audience moans, sharing in my pain.

"She visited me though, so at least... I have something to hang onto."

"Well, I tell you what, Peeta: you go out there... and you win this thing... and when you get home... she'll have to go out with you. Right, folks?" The crowd cheers encouragement.

"Thanks, but... I don't think winning's gonna help me at all."

"And why not?"

And in that moment, I decide to come clean. Damn the consequences. Come what may. It might destroy any chances of winning forever. She might see it as my insincere capitalization on the kiss we shared, but... at least she'll know.

"Because... her boyfriend came here with me."

The audience cries out and Caesar grins like a cat who has just eaten a canary.

"A love triangle!" he crows. "Looks like we have quite the rivalry! Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark!"

* * *

I'm going to die. Tonight, possibly. I'm going to die without even having entered the arena.

Gale attacks me as soon as I get offstage. He pins me to the nearest wall.

"You think you can just steal my girl, _Townie_?" he spits in rage.

Scared as I am, I attempt to maintain a flat, almost intense and brave, affect. "I only said I was in love with her. I didn't say I kissed her or... fucked her!" I know only part of that statement is a lie, but Gale doesn't have to know that. He knows enough already.

"You better damn not have! Cause guess what, Mellark? She's MINE!"

Haymitch finally gets there, pulling us apart with surprising force despite his almost certain inebriation. "Go to bed, both of you! Save it for the arena; you can fight over Sweetheart then!" Effie leads me away, tut-tutting over Gale's and my collective lack of manners.

As I lie in bed that night, I think over my risky declaration, and Gale's and my confrontation afterwards. At least, I didn't reveal Katniss's identity; I suppose Gale should be grateful for that. But what of Katniss? I must have at least outed her to District 12; most everyone at home knows she and Gale are in a relationship. And if anyone from Seam or Town goes blabbing to the Capitol camera crews, or the Peacekeepers...

I fall into a fitful sleep, all the while plagued with the question:

What have I just done?


	3. Chapter 3: Join Forces

**Chapter 3: Join Forces**

Effie awakes me early the next morning. I quickly shower and dress, scarf down some breakfast. Who knows when, or if, I'll be getting another decent meal again? I then join her, Haymitch and Gale on the Training Center roof, where a hovercraft awaits to ferry us to the arena.

Haymitch gives me an awkward hug goodbye, which takes me by surprise. I didn't know he was a hugger, or even an affectionate person at all. He pumps Gale's hand. I try not to read too much into, or derive any hidden meaning, from these different interactions.

The hovercraft ride is short, whereupon the boys are hustled underground and separated into individual rooms. Portia waits for me, to help me change into my arena jumpsuit. It is thick, almost like the mail armor from knights of old. Perhaps we're heading for ice or some other frozen wasteland. I hug Portia goodbye, and she hands me my token: a medallion that contain inside it a picture of Katniss. It's a candid shot, which I stole via a small camera in the school hallway one day.

"Ten seconds to launch!" I obey the automated voice and step into the pod, which promptly seals around me. Before I know it, I feel myself being propelled up, up, up...

Sunlight suddenly blinds me, and it does not go away quickly. The rays of light reflect off of everything: my medallion, my jumpsuit...

And the sea of water currently surrounding my pedestal. Now I'm _definitely_ going to die.

 _I can't swim... I can't swim!_ I panic. In an attempt to calm myself, I use the precious minute before the gong goes off to take in my surroundings:

The water is split into wedges by rocky spokes, trapping two tributes to each wedge. To my left is one of the monstrous boys from District 10. The rocky spokes lead to a miniature island which houses the Cornucopia. As the countdown nears its end, I steel myself. _Katniss... I love you._

The gong goes off. But I don't move. Instead, I watch what the others do. Precious few of the boys actually dive into the water. The boy from 10 next to me is among them, quickly making for the beach.

I look to my right to see that Gale is in the wedge next to mine. He dives in. _How does he know how to swim?_ I marvel.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get very far. One of the males from District 9 paired off in his wedge dives in and intercepts him. The two boys grapple in the water, one of the first fights of the Quell.

I bite my lip. If I do nothing, there's a chance Gale could fall to this guy and my stiffest competition would be out of the way. Then again, if I stand by... Katniss would never forgive me.

I make my decision. With a flying leap, I actually manage to reach the rocky spoke next to them. Then, I cannonball into the water, disrupting the fight.

The District 9 male looks enraged when I surface, but he does just what I want him to do. He switches targets. Using all my wrestling skills, I quickly get him in a headlock and hold him under until he drowns. All the while, I use his body as a flotation brace, so I don't go under myself. At last, the cannon fires.

Gale stares at me, as I hold onto the body of the District 9 boy. I regard him back blankly. "Go ahead: kill me." I offer.

But Gale pauses. I can see something in his eyes. Is it guilt?

Gale swims deliberately toward me and the body. I shut my eyes and brace myself, deciding to picture Katniss in my final moments. But no kill comes. No snapping of the neck that Gale could do oh so easily.

Instead, I feel him wrap his arms around me. "Hold onto me, Mellark," he growls.

And he swims towards shore, towing me with him. We reach the beach on a less populated side and seize whatever weapons we can. Finally, Gale looks to me.

"Run." We take off together, down one spoke towards the jungle.

It is never spoken or even acknowledged that we have entered a rather strange alliance. Nevertheless, I am grateful. I suppose Gale is now under something of a life debt to me. I have heard that Seam folk take the concept of owing someone very seriously.

Once within the safety of the trees, at a decent enough distance, we stop to rest. Gale sets a snare as if he was born doing so, and quickly catches a very large and very ugly rat. Soon enough, we hear the cannons go off. The Bloodbath is over.

Night falls. By the light of our meager fire and the moon, we watch the dead boys' faces appear in the sky:

One male from 5. One male from 6. Both males from 8. Both males from 9. One male from 10, but I recognize that it is not the boy I was wedged with. One male from 11. That's it for tonight.

Eight dead. A third of the field gone. Gale takes the news rather blandly, rolling over onto his side as he prepares for bed.

"Go to sleep, Mellark," he orders. I soon do, dreaming of Katniss. Nevertheless, I am enough of a realist to keep one eye open as I slumber.


	4. Chapter 4: Bridge the Gap

**Chapter 4: Bridge the Gap**

I quickly realize that sleep will not come. So, I wake Gale up, only to find that he has been half-conscious himself.

"If neither of us can sleep, we might as well talk," I rationalize.

He agrees and begins. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess it depends on what it is," I reply.

"When did you fall in love with... you-know-who?"

He caught himself just in time. Smiling at the memory, I begin:

"It was the first day of school. She was wearing a little red dress and her hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed her out when we were lining up. He explained he wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner. When I asked him why, he said he was such a good singer, even the birds stopped to listen. Only he was wrong. She sang even better than her father, in music assembly that day. That's when I knew I was a goner."

Gale is silent throughout all of this, his lips pursed in thought. He seems to understand.

Then, he tells me the story of how he and Katniss teamed up after their fathers perished in the same mining accident. Throughout the whole exchange, we are careful to only refer to Katniss as 'she.' Let the Capitol run itself ragged trying to find out who she is! We're not idiots. We have to protect her.

During the night, two cannons are heard. After a brief pause, Gale and I will just keep right on chatting. I am just telling him about life as a baker when suddenly -

"MELLARK! GET DOWN!" Gale tackles me and we roll down an embankment in the jungle. I hear a wheesh, followed by an explosion. Even though the sky is only just beginning to lighten - it must be around 5 AM - I can still see the flickering of embers burning the leaves where my body once sat. A fireball.

Gale and I look at each other and speak without words: a Gamemaker trap.

"Run," I say.

We do. All the while, fireballs rain down from the heavens on us. Gale and I actually expend most of our energy pushing and pulling each other out of the way of the oncoming projectiles. After what must be close to an hour, the fireballs stop.

"I think they're gone..." Gale is just saying -

"GAHH!" Of course we get no rest as we are ambushed by a singed tribute. As the brute of a boy flings me into the leaves and we wrestle, I recognize him: the remaining District 10 boy who was in my wedge at the start of the Games. I wonder if he recognizes me. But I put that out of my mind and focusing on keeping the knife he is pressing down towards me at bay. I came in second to my brother at the wrestling competition in school, but this boy is unlike any rival I've ever faced on the mat. I am beginning to weaken when -

The boy seizes up, his weight relaxing off me slightly. Then, he topples over to the side, dead. With an arrow in his back.

I shake my head to clear and am only vaguely aware of Gale taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "Thanks," I breathe, a little amazed that he even rescued me.

Gale just shrugs. plucking the arrow from the boy's body and cleaning the tip. "You saved me earlier. Now we're even."

Of course. He's paid his debt to me.

By now, the sun is high in the sky as we meander our way through the jungle, finally escaping the thick trees and making it to the beach. In the distance, we can see the island with the horn... deserted. Aren't the Careers guarding this, as they so often do? And if so, where are they?

Nevertheless, Gale and I approach the Cornucopia to see that the coast is clear, and with some weapons left over. I lost my knife in the fight with the District 10 boy, and the fireballs only left me time to grab one spear as we fled our camp. So Gale and I pick over whatever is here, replenishing our supplies.

It is quiet. Too quiet. Then -

The Careers attack in an entire wave, meant to overwhelm us. Interestingly, I only see 5 of them, and am amazed at my ability to keep the boys straight when I quickly deduce that one of the males from 4 is missing. Perhaps he was one of the cannons we heard during the wee hours of the morning?

Gale shoots one male from District 1, and I spear the other. The three remaining, seeing us hold our own and even advancing, turn and run without more of a fight.

Gale and I collapse on the rocks, exhausted, as soon as they are out of sight. All at once, there is a rumble.

"What now?" Gale moans.

But it is a giant tidal wave gathering in the distance. We hear another cannon, following the two for the Careers we killed. BOOM. The last of the tide washes up harmlessly on the rocks.

Seeing that we are finally getting something of a rest, I spear some fish for a breakfast long overdue. That's when I hear and see the parachute floating down. A sponsor gift! Gale opens it to find some bread - the perfect supplement for the fish I've caught.

The rest of the day passes without incident. At last, the faces of the new deaths appear in the sky.

Both District 1 males, naturally. One District 3 male. One District 4 male. Other District 5 male. Other District 6 male. One District 7 male. And the other District 10 male that we fought.

Eight more dead. Two days in the arena, and we are already at the Final Eight. It makes me wonder: will my family be interviewed. Surely yes. Gale's too.

Another thought strikes me: will _Katniss_ be interviewed? Has her identity been discovered?

This thought haunts me as Gale and I fall asleep anew, this time on the Cornucopia island.


	5. Chapter 5: Duel for the Girl

**Chapter 5: Duel for the Girl**

At mid-morning on the third day in the arena, Gale and I leave the island to go foraging for food in the jungle. The task leaves me plenty of time to think. For me to reach the Final Eight is quite an accomplishment, and I have done so in one of the weirdest alliances the Games has ever seen. Indeed, over the last two days, I feel Gale and I have reached a relationship resembling friends.

Yet I know it can't last. We'll have to turn on each other eventually, or break it off before events come to that.

I am interrupted by Gale's scream. Suddenly, we find ourselves surrounded by giant insects, with sharp pincers and ugly beaks.

Gale wastes no time. "Get out of it, quick!" He shoots down one insect, clearing a path for us to literally sprint through. The insects give chase, but we run so fast that we bullet past another human without even really noticing who it is.

It turns out to be the remaining male from District 11. And he takes the fall for us.

We don't stay to watch, but still hear, his screams as the insects devour him.

Pelting into another section of the arena, we come upon a tree bigger than the rest that looks charred. The remaining male from District 3 is at its base, and he has only just noticed us when he screams. There is a plasmic roar as lightning beats the earth, blasting Gale and I back but killing 3 instantly.

We are already weary, so we nearly roar in frustration when Claudius Templesmith announces an immediate Feast. Gale and I elect to hide and watch the others fight it out. We take our own time walking back to the island, so as to give our bodies time to rest.

When we arrive just inside the tree line, we can see that backpacks of supplies have magically appeared. When the last District 7 male tries to sneak away with one, the Careers quickly overtake him. Then, the arguments between these allies over the spoils quickly turn to blows, and the last District 4 male is betrayed.

Gale and I seize the moment. We rush District 2 while they are still winded. Gale shoots the bigger one from a distance and while still in motion; I wrestle the smaller one to the ground and snap his neck. Two cannons sound.

I shakily get to my feet. I'm ready to drop. It's not over yet though, for it dawns on me:

We're in the Top Two. District 12 will have a Victor. But it also means the most dramatic showdown in Hunger Games history. And like fools, Gale and I helped it along.

I glance towards Gale to see him heading my way. His face is expressionless, as if he doesn't recognize me. I back up, eyeing my former ally warily.

"Gale... I don't want to fight you."

He notches the bowstring. "I'm sorry, Peeta... but I've got my girl to worry about."

I barely have time to register that this is the first instance he has said my real name before he fires his final arrow.

I dive out of the way, leaping to my feet a second later. Gale's only chance is to overwhelm me with sheer muscle, so he charges...

Right into my sword. I don't even remember pulling it out.

Gale collapses to the rocks, choking on his own blood. I can do nothing but cradle him as he gargles out:

"Take care of her. Take... care of her." He expires. One last cannon. Only now do I weep for my... friend, ignoring Claudius's announcement of my victory:

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 75th Annual Hunger Games: Peeta Mellark of District 12!"


	6. Chapter 6: I Hate You

**Chapter 6: I Hate You**

 **Katniss's POV**

District 12's first Victor in a quarter century is coming home today. Peeta Mellark is coming home today. Peeta Mellark, the man who killed my lover, is coming home today.

Standing at the train station next to my mother and sister, the scowl on my face makes it clear that I don't want to be here. By all rights, I shouldn't be here. If it was Gale coming home healthy and whole and alive, my attendance would be easy and voluntary, rather than hard and compulsory. But Hazelle and her other children asked us to come in a show of support when Gale's casket is moved off the train.

Not to mention the fact that Capitol camera crews are annoyingly trained on me, as if expecting me to embrace or show some tenderness to the other man seeking my affections.

The station is packed, people standing up on rooftops, hogging the platform behind us. When the great steam engine at last pulls in, the whole place erupts in cheers. I want to roll my eyes. What a total farce.

Effie Trinket comes off first to polite applause. Then, whoops for Haymitch. Finally, _he_ emerges - all blonde and muscular and... _beautiful_ with that stupidly shy grin on his face. As if he is actually someone humble.

I see the cameras panning over to me, and I realize with total disgust what they expect as Peeta approaches the Hawthornes, approaches me. They expect a romantic blossoming. They expect a show.

They want a show? I'll give them a show.

Peeta has been moving down the line of Gale's family and mine, giving each one a consoling hug. When he finally reaches me, he holds out his arms wide to embrace me. But he doesn't get very far.

For at that moment, I step forward and slap him hard across the face.

"I HATE YOU! YOU KILLED HIM! AND NOW YOU EXPECT ME TO LOVE YOU, OUR PRECIOUS NEW VICTOR! WELL, GUESS WHAT? I WILL NEVER LOVE YOU, PEETA MELLARK! NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!"

Mother and Prim drag me away from him before the camera crews capture more of this spectacle, before Peeta even has a chance to reply. But I am still satisfied to witness the devastated and hurt look in his eyes as I am led away.

* * *

I wish we could just bury Gale where we want. Where he should be, near his family. Unfortunately, the Capitol has control over all aspects of the Games, even the dead tributes. Even where the dead tributes are buried.

In the far corner of the Victor's Village lies what is known as the Fallen Tribute Graveyard. Every District 12 tribute save for now three has been buried here. And, as much as I despise it, that is where Gale must be laid to rest, and where we are now holding his funeral, the day after his body was unloaded from the train.

As the coffin carrying my love is being lowered into the ground, I hear footsteps approaching from behind. Turning in my black mourning dress and shawl, I see _him_ coming up the gentle slope to the graveyard entrance.

I send Peeta a look that could split stone. "What do you want?"

Peeta pauses, eyeing me warily as he shifts from foot to foot. "I was hoping to pay my respects. And also to leave a gift."

I take a dangerous step towards him. "You have plenty of other times to 'pay your respects.' And we don't want any gift from the likes of you."

"Katniss!" My mother's voice is unusually sharp at my back. "Hush."

Peeta holds the wrapped package he carries out and slightly aloft. "Can I at least show it to you?"

I don't move. It is as if he is carrying a bomb. After seeing that I will clearly not accept it, much less open it, Peeta undoes the wrapping himself. It seems to resemble a canvas.

But it is what's on the canvas that takes my breath away.

Peeta has painted a portrait of _Gale_.

He has gotten everything right: his stormy gray eyes, tall forehead, the sharp jut of his chin. He is armed with a bow and arrow, against a backdrop of forestry trees. District 12 trees.

Peeta has to fully extend his arm to get the portrait to reach me, and I forget myself, critically error in forgetting my anger, as I accept it.

"I know you might not believe me, but I miss him too," Peeta tells me softly. Then, leaving me speechless in his wake, Peeta Mellark walks away.


	7. Chapter 7: See You Off

**Chapter 7: See You Off**

I take the fan and flap it against my brow as I wait on the platform in the hot summer sun. Ordinarily, I would not stay at the Reaping any longer than the actual selection itself, but this is for Peeta.

After Gale's funeral, I felt the need to apologize to Peeta for how I had treated him. Over time, we gradually became good friends. Peeta was grateful to be back in my good graces, or any graces at all. And if anyone needs a friend, it is him.

His duties as a Victor are draining, to say the least. Going to the Games every summer, occasionally attending Capitol functions during the year. Plus, he has the duty of making sure Haymitch doesn't do anything stupid, like die of alcohol poisoning. Somehow, without even noticing at first, I began to support Peeta in these endeavors any way that I could. Right now, encouraging him as he is sent on his way to mentor is the best I can do.

Peeta, Haymitch and their two poor proteges for the 85th Hunger Games now emerge from the Justice Building through a side entrance. Instantly, the group is swarmed by the media. It is more than normal, given that these are two of the three Quarter Quell Victors, which makes my heart go out to the young baker all the more. The platform is crowded enough as it is, and I really shouldn't be here, as I am not of any importance to this annual function. Yet the Peacekeepers always let me past the usual barricades and bureaucracy, which makes me wonder if they are aware of my friendship with one of Twelve's Victors. I can only imagine the theories: that I am Peeta's whore. Or worse, his girlfriend. Ha!

Effie bristles on first, Haymitch staggering after her under the support of his new tributes. Peeta pauses at the train car door to wish me goodbye. I unbutton the top of his shirt to allow more cool air flow, hand him a water bottle. "It's going to be hotter than usual up there in the Capitol. My mother checked the weather. Stay in the shade, OK?"

Peeta smiles. "Sure. I'll try to call you, all right?"

I grin softly. "If you have the time. Don't over-exert yourself."

"PEETA!" Haymitch bellows from somewhere within. "GET YOUR ASS ON THIS TRAIN, BOY! WE GOTTA GO!"

Peeta sighs. "He still treats me like a child."

"Like a tribute," I point out. "I think it's his way of being affectionate. He's just trying to protect you."

Peeta smiles wearily. "Yeah, well. Duty calls." For a moment, I wonder if he is going to do something like kiss me goodbye. But he doesn't. "See you later."

I smirk. "Don't be late," I chide, as if I am a wife seeing her husband off to work.

* * *

It's been weeks since the Games ended, and I still am seeing those poor tributes' deaths in my dreams. Every night, the deaths are different and even more gruesome. Then, it all ends with me watching Gale be killed by Peeta over and over and over again...

I wake up screaming. It doesn't last very long before I see a dark figure crawl in through my bedroom window.

"Katniss? It's OK..."

I sit even more upright, startled. "Peeta? What are you doing here?"

"I was taking a long walk through the district."

"In the middle of the night?" I stare.

Even in the darkness, I can see his gaze is sad. "I get them too, you know," he admits quietly. "Good night." He turns towards the window.

"Peeta?"

He glances back.

"... Will you stay with me?" I ask almost sheepishly.

His blue eyes blink for a moment, and then he nods. "Yeah." I let him climb into bed with me, under the covers. Just before I drift off against his chest, I hear him whisper, "Always."


	8. Chapter 8: Weddings and Quid Pro Quo

**Chapter 8: Weddings & Quid Pro Quo**

I hurry to the Mellark Bakery after my hunts one morning. I have a very important errand that I have to complete for Prim, which is why I don't make my presence known from the rear loading dock the way I usually do. Julie, Peeta's sister-in-law and Rye's wife, looks up from the cash register and smiles. She calls over her shoulder:

"Peeta! Someone to see you, honey!" Then she winks at me, which oddly makes me blush. Peeta enters from the rear hallway leading to the storerooms, wiping his hands on a tea towel. He smiles when he sees me.

"Katniss!" he crosses up to behind the counter. "I must say, this makes for a nice change. I've never seen you come in from the front before."

I smile as I dump the bag of squirrels on the counter. "For your father."

Peeta nods and hands them off to Julie. "Take these to the back, please."

Julie nods. "Bye, Katniss!"

After a moment, Peeta's mother comes in and begins busying herself at the far end of the counter near the pastries. She's a witch of a woman, a point made clear when she notices me and softly clucks in disapproval.

"And, aside from the squirrels..." Peeta drolls as he pays me on his dad's behalf. "What else can I do for you?"

"I have some amazing news!" I tell him. "Primrose is getting married!"

Peeta blinks, then chuckles. "So, that Rory Hawthorne finally got off his ass, did he?"

I gape at him, half shocked, half amused. "It wasn't like that!" I protest. "He's been saving up for months to buy a ring! Besides," and here I smirk as I deliver my prodding challenge, "I bet you couldn't do any better with a proposal!"

Peeta suddenly takes my hand in his. With a voice both at once dramatic and deadly seriously, he asks, "Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"

We both hear the Witch make a deliriously satisfying choking sound from down the counter. Laughing, I toss his hand away. "You tease! Anyway, I came down here as I was hoping you might bake the wedding cake for Prim."

"Tell Prim I would be more than honored," Peeta smiles. "And before you say anything: no charge, no trade, no nothing! This one's on me."

Now, the Witch makes a little yelp - the kind that must be elicited as a good job's profits go down the drain.

I give Peeta's hand a squeeze. "Thank you. And you're welcome to stay for the reception after you make the delivery."

"Sure."

"Gotta go. Thanks Peeta!" And I race out the door.

* * *

Prim and Rory's wedding and subsequent toasting are beautiful.

They are assigned a fine home in the Seam, a decent distance from the mines where Rory now works, but not too far. My 23-year-old baby sister, now a young woman, looks radiant as she and her new husband share the first dance. Just as it begins, Peeta enters with an immaculate wedding cake. I have seen a lot of the young Mellark's creations, and I have to admit, this is probably his finest, as all the guests Ooh and Aah over it. Indeed, they seem reluctant to eat it, or even slice it.

I sidle up to Peeta and give him a hug, encouraging him once again to stay and enjoy the celebration. The beauty of his confectionary creation leaves me feeling indebted all over again, as I ask, "How can I ever thank you?"

"Just one thing," Peeta grins. He holds out his hand. "Care to dance?"

I blink, taken aback, but pleased too. "All right." I take his hand.

His one hand goes about my waist, near the small of my back, and we begin a slow waltz. My free hand goes about Peeta's neck, playing at the nape of his hair there.

"That cake you made was beautiful," I express, my voice thick as Peeta twirls me about the room. "The best ever."

Peeta beams, as if my words have heated his whole being. "I thought you might like it. And that is quite a compliment."

For a while, we lose each other in conversation, in the music. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Prim watching us intently and giggling like a little schoolgirl to her new husband. I can only imagine what she is speculating, so I try to ignore it.

Even as my heart pounds whilst I gaze into those eyes as blue as a summer sky.


	9. Chapter 9: Funerals and Quid Pro Quo

**Chapter 9: Funerals & Quid Pro Quo**

It is a slow afternoon at my home in the Seam. I am peeling squirrels for tonight's dinner meat in silence. Suddenly, the peace is interrupted by the telephone ringing. It is both a rare blessing and an infernal curse, having a telephone in the Seam. Most of the time, it is only Victors and Merchants who can afford such a luxury. But my father worked hard enough to afford it. And it's a godsend in notifying my mother of patients.

That must be what this is about, as Mother dashes to pick it up. "Hello, Everdeen residence... Oh, hi Julie... What? Oh, no... I'm so sorry... Of course, I understand why Peeta couldn't tell us... I'll send Katniss along... Bye."

Upon hearing Peeta's name, the squirrels are forgotten. I run to my mother. "What did Julie say?"

Mother just looks at me, and I am surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Steffan's dead."

* * *

I didn't know Peeta's father all that well, at least beyond our occasional trades in the back of the bakery. But, I am nonetheless absolutely shocked. Add in the factor of Peeta, whom I care for deeply, and I am devastated.

Mother sends me to the funeral with a small condolence gift, wrapped. I don't know what's in it; Mother picked it out herself.

As I approach the group, I see the Witch turn up her nose in disapproval. I knew she would. She can't even bring herself to tolerate the few Seam folk who would actually care about her husband's death. So I hand the present to Julie instead. "We're very sorry for your loss," I mumble. Then, I go to find Peeta.

He is off away from the group, standing over his father's freshly erected tombstone. I place a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"You came," he stares.

I shrug. "You need me." I present him with a gift of my own. One last squirrel. A little crude compared to whatever my mother whipped up but still. He accepts it silently.

"I owe you anyway," I say softly. "For Prim's wedding. For baking the cake."

Peeta just sighs. "Katniss, does everything have to be a quid pro quo with you?" He almost sounds annoyed.

I suspect he must be acting this way because he's mad with grief, but still I blink in surprise, my mouth open in shock. "Yes," I gasp. Overwhelmed with concern, I dare to peck his cheek. "You came to Gale's funeral. It's only fair -"

"Life isn't fair, Katniss," Peeta shakes his head angrily. "You think watching your father die is fair? You think killing in an arena and living with the consequences is fair? No, nothing in this world is fair - and only a fool would think that it could be made so with a trade here or there!"

My eyes fill with tears. "Fine. If that's the way you see it... fine."

Peeta turns away. "I just need to be alone, Katniss."

I run all the way back to my house so he doesn't see me weep.


	10. Chapter 10: Slow and Steady Wins

**Chapter 10: Slow and Steady Wins**

 **Peeta's POV**

The mid-day rush has been slow. Almost non-existent. The lull in business gives my family and I the chance to prepare the bread for the next several days. I do my work slowly, in a lethargic monotone, speaking to no one and with an almost permanent slump to my shoulders.

Around mid-afternoon, the bell rings to signal a customer. I look up and blink in surprise before sadly looking down and away. It's Katniss. I don't know why she decided to come in through the front door; she usually makes her trades in the back. Or she did, when Dad was still alive; perhaps his death has prompted a change in routine for her.

I concentrate on washing the china dishes, in preparation for new pastries to be placed in the display window. Katniss, meanwhile, comes right up to the counter further down from me. I guess she must be pretty confident to openly trade with my mother present; her dealings with Dad were always done in at the back door to the loading dock, on the sly.

"Two squirrels," she announces, dumping the wares before my mother. Mother just stares at her for a moment, and then, by way of... can it even be called a greeting, she declares,

"He split a bag of grain last week staring after you."

I pause for just the slightest instant in my scrubbing of a plate; out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Katniss flush. I avert my eyes back to my task and just try to concentrate. But Mother doesn't let up, even as she accepts the squirrels and painstakingly weighs them.

"I said to him you wouldn't look twice at him. If you were interested, you would have said so, or maybe even thrown yourself at him, knowing your type."

I notice my knuckles are turning white as I grip the scrub brush like a vice. My mother has a sick gift for riding that most merciless of gauntlets known as personal insult; she just put down both her own son and Katniss with ease. I find myself staring down past the bizarre consumer interaction towards Rye and Julie, who are busy working the cash register and finances. Julie bites her lip, giving me something like a sympathetic smile. Or is it a grimace? _Do something!_ I mouth to either one of them. Julie just looks to her husband, and my brother gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

My eyes dart over to Katniss for just a moment. She looks flustered. But she can't be any more than I am. I personally think I will die of shame.

And then, Mom drives the final nail in the coffin:

"He should be thinking about his work, not his dick."

I hear Julie give a tiny gasp in mortified shock just before the shattering of glass.

"AHH! DAMN!" I scream, seeing the scattered shards of the plate I just dropped.

Mother is on me in an instant. "Clumsy fool! You'll go hungry tonight for breaking that china, boy!" She grabs me by the ear, just as she did when I was little. How astonishing it is that she can make me, now a grown man, as terrified as a little boy.

To her credit, Julie tries to defuse the bomb that is already in the middle of going off. "Paula, don't!" Past my mother's manic gaze, I see Rye finally take a step away from the counter.

THUNK.

The sound silences all in the room, and we turn as one to see Katniss armed with her bow, the string taught, no arrow in the notch. As if following an invisible flight path, we see that the arrow is instead lodged in the far wall. And most conspicuous of all, is the thin slice of blood across my mother's cheek.

Katniss missed her by mere centimeters. Nicked her, really.

"Don't touch him," Katniss growls low, like a panther ready to pounce.

This is the first time in my life that I have seen my mother at a complete loss for words. Indeed, she is stunned. No, more than stunned - _scared_. I have never known my mother to be scared of anything or anyone.

Rye leads a terrified Julie into the back, and my mother quickly follows, almost withering under Katniss's unrelenting glare. "Next time, I'll shoot straighter," she vows to the closing door.

She and I regard each other for a long moment. Then -

We burst out laughing. Katniss strolls behind the counter to me, as if to check that I am all right, still holding her side. She plucks the arrow out of the wall, which gets us going all over again.

I brush her hair out of her eyes, and the laughter fades to gasping breaths. Katniss is gazing into my eyes. Her hands find my chest, fisting my shirt.

All at once, we are kissing as if we cannot stop. Katniss assertively pushes me against the back door, bracing it shut with my body. Then she brazenly hitches her leg to my waist. She breaks the kiss momentarily to get air. "I don't want her coming back in. None of them," she practically hisses, and I feel my libido strain even harder against my pants.

She inches closer, and I find myself drawn to her tentatively. "Open your mouth," she commands in a whisper. "Open your mouth; open it!" Her lips are practically on mine, inches from connecting. Indeed, she sounds slightly muffled, as she moans "Open it..." one last time. Our lips fuse together.

We kiss wildly now, Katniss taking most of the initiative. Our heads thrash from one side to the other as our lips engage. She melts up into my mouth, compliant and eager against me. "I love you," she gasps into my mouth, her voice strangely hoarse. She firmly grasps my shoulders; mine find her hips before sweeping up her lower back. Katniss now begins to plant open-mouthed, feathery kisses along my jaw, my cheek. I close my eyes in abject pleasure. Then, her lips tickle, suckle on my earlobe. Then, I hear her voice, silky and husky all at once:

"If we get married, you can't ever tell me what to do."

Her lips find mine once more, long and lingering, and when she draws away, my mouth is hanging open. _What did she just say?_ Katniss is playing with the buttons on my shirt calmly, almost thoughtfully, methodically. Yet her eyes sparkle, only partially masking a practical seriousness there.

"And I won't have children. Not as long as there are still Hunger Games. Babies are something to love only until they are something to lose at the Reaping. Prim and Rory can always visit us. I can hunt whenever I want. And I can't promise I'll be civil to your mother."

Her eyes now search mine, slowly betraying a barely suppressed... panic? Here she is, having gone against her vows of chastity that she has imposed upon herself all her life. She has delivered her terms for this potential marriage. And here I am, still gaping like a fish. "Deal?" she nudges.

I seize her and kiss her until she can't breath, until she forgets her own name. My lips dig into hers with happy passion before springing away.

"Deal," I pant with a smile. Surely it's the best one I can get. She said no children, but perhaps I can change her mind about that in time. We have plenty of time to discuss it, Games or no Games.

Katniss smiles almost in amusement before languidly draping her arms across my neck. "Go ahead, then," she practically smirks. "Ask me."

"Ask what?" I breathe almost stupidly, still a little in shock.

"Ask me to marry you."

I had played this scenario out in my head for many years, all with varying degrees of flair. But if I know Katniss, then only a simple proposal will do. No thrills or fuss. Just traditional. Or at least, whatever tradition is left; she did take the unusually step of asking me first. Still, I kneel.

"Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she smiles softly, charmed and touched by my adorableness.

I stand and kiss her tenderly, which she returns.

"There's... something I haven't told you," she says, staring down at my hands as she laces them with hers.

"What?"

But she is still staring down at my shirt, dipping her head, her eyes only half-raised to me. "I meant it: I love you. More than anyone."

I stare in astonishment. "Even Prim?"

And here she laughs. "Especially Prim." And she kisses my lips to keep me from looking like I've been hit in the head. "Thank you."

"For what?"

She bites her lip. "For loving me. For being such a good man."

She kisses me one last time. When we break apart, I tell her to go to the Hob, and wait for me there until after quitting time. I then exit to the back to tell my family of my impending marriage and to begin planning the wedding.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter was inspired by the end of a beautiful fic called _Slow and Steady Wins the Race_. **


	11. Chapter 11: Elope

**Chapter 11: Elope**

"I FORBID IT!" Mom shrieks.

I am standing in the back storeroom with her, Rye and Julie. I have just told them of my upcoming marriage to a Seam woman.

"Katniss proposed, Mom," I say simply. "And I said yes. There's nothing you can do to stop it. We're already planning."

"And how do you know this marriage is real?" Mom sneers. "She's never shown any interest in you before. Didn't she say once that she would never love you?"

"We've been friends for a long time," I protest. "Maybe she's changed her opinions on marriage."

"Maybe, but I think Mom actually has a point, Peeta," Rye says, biting his lip. "Who's to say Katniss isn't marrying you just to show up Mom?"

I stare at my brother in abject disbelief. The implication that Katniss is marrying me to spite someone else is not only deeply uncharacteristic of her. It's downright hilarious. In fact, I do laugh. "You're joking... right?"

"Peeta, she shot a _fucking arrow_ at our mother!" Rye protests. "And while what Mom was saying was... incredibly uncivilized," he continues as delicately as he can, "it still didn't justify violence on Katniss's part."

I want to scream. True, Rye is probably the most diplomatic person in the family, but I at least expected him to back me up. I refuse to hear any more. Ignoring the plan I made with Katniss to meet her at quitting time, I can't wait any longer. I run from the bakery, ignoring my mother's calls to stop. I make a clean break for the Hob, not slowing down until I get there.

I see my bride-to-be over at Greasy Sae's stall. I grab while she's still in the middle of a trade, dragging her back behind the stalls. Hoisting her up the wall, I kiss her until she is breathless, gasping for air.

"Well, good afternoon to you, too," she chuckles as we break the kiss at last. "What are you doing here early?"

I don't bother to explain; with what I say next, she can probably work it out for herself. "Let's run away," I beg. "Let's elope!"

She stares at me, with that cute little frown she always wears when trying to solve a problem. "Your mom exploded, huh?"

"That's not the worst part. Rye actually took her side! He's always trying to make peace when there is none! I thought he'd defend my choice!"

Katniss raises an eyebrow. "Don't you mean _my_ choice? I'm the one who proposed marriage!"

"True," I concede. "But you've been my choice since I was five years old."

Katniss blushes and I can see her barely hide a smile. "What did Julie say?"

"Nothing. She never likes to get involved in family spats, if she can avoid it."

"Well, there must be someone in your family who will support you!" Katniss cries, frustrated for me. She adds quietly. "Your Dad would have."

I sigh.

"What about your oldest brother... what's his name... Leven?"

I shake my head. "He's busy at his wife's business - you know, the swineherd's? He's hardly ever around." Of course, that doesn't mean I couldn't talk to him, but I don't know if it would do much good.

I feel Katniss raise my chin up, cup my face in her hands as she gives me the tenderest kiss imaginable. "Yes," she whispers, touching her forehead to mine. "Let's elope. We can marry in the woods; no one will know. Have a toasting, too."

I smile. "Then you'll allow it?"

She pecks my lips. "I'll allow it."

"But with no guests?" I query. "You sure you want that?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter what I want. What's important to me is that this is what you want, and it's what will get us married, as man and wife... I love you, Peeta. And anyway - who said anything about no guests?"

* * *

She's not wrong, of course. Even though elopements technically involve the couple alone, Katniss manages to invite her family: her mother and Prim and Rory. Mrs. Everdeen gives me her blessing. I manage to rope Haymitch into attending - at least I will have someone there. He provides the wine and even graciously agrees to walk Katniss down the aisle.

Katniss looks stunning in a simple white dress that was apparently her mother's. For my part, I managed to smuggle my dad's old tuxedo out of the bakery.

We wed in the Meadow that Katniss adores so much, as the sunset - my favorite color - bathes us. Katniss then constructs a crude bonfire, over which we burn a piece of bread I also smuggled out. Exchanging rings, we eat the bread together, before sealing it all with an embrace and kiss. Katniss actually dips me, and I laugh inwardly at the reversal from our first romantic moment together.

The Everdeens/Hawthornes and Haymitch cheer, partying with us late into the night.

* * *

 **Katniss's POV**

I rise with the dawn from the bed my husband I share. Time to go on my morning hunt. If I leave now, I can get back in time...

I silently dress and gather my gear, kissing my sleeping Peeta's lips softly before slipping out the door.

Peeta's mom didn't take the news of our wedding well, of course. The marriage of a Victor and a Seam "hussey", to use her words, would be the ruin of the family, she said. Thankfully, Rye finally jumped to his younger brother's defense and even Julie backed him up. Threatening estrangement, they forced the Witch to accept our nuptials; she even allowed Peeta and I to live above the bakery, in quarters just off from Julie and Rye's.

By the time I return to the Bakery, entering just off the loading dock, the place is already bustling. The ovens have been fired up, and there are already a few customers. I pass Peeta in the narrow hallway leading to the counter, and give him a drive-by kiss as I don my apron and head up to the front. Seeing Rye at the counter, I join Julie further down and begin kneading the dough. She flashes me a smile in greeting.

I like Julie, for the most part. She comes from a Merchant family, and is quite pretty with strawberry blond hair, piercing green eyes and of course, that beaming smile that never seems to come off. It even stays on when she's talking to you, sometimes.

"Morning, Katniss! How was your hunt?" she gives me a side-hug.

"Fine," I shrug. "Bagged a squirrel or two, traded it at the Hob on my way here."

She shakes her head. "I could never do what you do, Katniss."

"Well, old habits die hard, I guess. And Peeta supports me in all of it."

There is a lull in the conversation as we move some ready dough into the oven behind us. "Paula was on me again today," Julie pipes up. "She thinks she can get me to bring up the possibility of kids with you..."

I roll my eyes. "You can tell her as long as there are Hunger Games and my husband has to leave me for weeks at a time every summer to mentor them, it ain't happening!" I sigh. "It's hard though, to see Peeta watching your little ones. He wants children so badly, but... the Reaping."

My sister-in-law lays a hand on my shoulder. "I understand."

The Witch suddenly enters from the back. "Eyes on the dough, please. Bread doesn't bake itself."

"Yes, ma'am," Julie says immediately, and we return to our work. Though that doesn't stop us from observing her as she watches Rye like a hawk over at the cash register, and stifling giggles at her expense. After a customer leaves, she berates Rye over some mistake.

"You should have just kept the change!" she barks. Just then, a little girl of twelve comes skipping in from the back: Emily, Julie's daughter and Peeta's and my niece.

It's like someone flipped a switch. Instantly, Paula shifts from a harsh matriarch to a doting grandmother. "Oh, Emily, my dear! How pretty you look in that lovely blue hat!" She bends down to give her a hug, but as soon as she stands up, she sends a glare my way before retreating into the back.

I turn back to my task, as Emily gives her mother a hug, and then me. "Morning, Auntie Katniss!"

"Morning, sweetheart." I lift her onto the counter, so she can watch me work. Emily is the spitting image of her mom, and her innocent curiosity reminds me of my sister when she was young. I turn back to Julie and ask her about that glare from our mother-in-law.

"Let me guess: that was about...?"

She nods. "You got it."

"And what's with the sudden change in demeanor with Emily?"

Julie bites her lip. "Paula always wanted daughters. When I had Emily, she finally got the girl she always wanted."

I want to laugh at this revelation. "Is that why she would beat her sons? Because they weren't girls?"

Rye must overhear me, for I later learn from my husband that he promptly went onto the loading dock and had himself quite the knee-slapper of a laugh, until Peeta brought him an Aspirin and sent him straight off to bed for a nap. What a life I have!


End file.
